


Laundry

by glitteringeva



Category: RWBY
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Grief, Mentions of Character Death, Nightmares, One Shot, actually it's really fluffy, light mentions of abuse, rwby rare pair week, rwbyrarepairweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 04:43:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12100968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteringeva/pseuds/glitteringeva
Summary: Neo always knew people weren’t really interested in her. She got used to be what they expected of her. But then a blond man stumbles into the laundromat, covered in blood.





	Laundry

Neo liked the Laundromat. She sat on one of the benches, wearing nothing but a shirt that was way too big on her, watching cars run by outside. Doing her laundry kept her from doing anything else, an excuse to escape the world outside for a moment. She couldn’t run around in nothing but this shirt that barely reached her mid-thighs (not that she would have cared), she couldn’t risk the few clothes she owned being stolen (not that she couldn’t replace them).

She didn’t like the other customers though. They were never interesting and never got that she didn’t want to be bothered. Some kept staring and she hated to take a break from her break to break someone’s hand that found its way on her leg. 

She didn’t get why that blond boy had to pick the machine right next to hers. He didn’t have a basket with him, just began to undress so hastily it freaked her out. She rolled her eyes and looked at him. Only then she saw his clothes were covered in blood. She raised her eyebrows. Well, maybe this one was interesting.

“I can explain that, I swear.” She only now noticed he was looking at her. He took his jeans off. His boxers had bunnies on them. “It’s not what you think it is.”

Actually she hadn’t really come to a conclusion as to what she thought this was. She raised her eyebrows and it only seemed to freak him out more.

“I was on the way to a friend’s birthday party and then suddenly everything turned upside down and I was in the car and then I wasn’t in the car anymore and I pulled my friend out of the car and the ambulance came and then I walked here to wash my clothes because I can’t walk around with all the blood on my clothes, can I?” His hands were shaking. She sighed. She knew what he was going through – not from experience, she didn’t care enough about anything for that, but she had seen it often enough. He was standing there in his boxers with bunnies on them and was about to have a breakdown.

He turned around to close the washing machine. “How the fuck do these even work?”, he yelled and hit it with his fist, harder than she had expected him to. “Does it take coins or…”

She got up and pushed him to the side, opened the machine again to take his purse and phone out of the pocket of his jeans. She closed the machine again and pushed him to the bench. If he fainted and hit his head there would be more people and she didn’t like more people. She started the machine while he sat down and then went to the coffee machine to get two cups of hot chocolate with his money.

He was absently staring at the washing machine when she came back. She gave him the hot chocolate and because she was feeling like being a good person today she also gave him his purse and his phone back, or rather just put it on the bench next to him. She never had the money to get herself a hot chocolate and she felt like coming back, so she couldn’t just break the machine or steal to get what she wanted.

“What if she’s going to die?”

Oh no. Neo felt like she really had earned that hot chocolate now. She took a sip. It didn’t even taste good, just horribly sweet.

“Oh my god, she’s going to die.” He ran his hand through his hair. She took his hand to bring the cup to his lips so he would take a sip. He did. She wasn’t sure if it would actually help, but it made him shut up for a moment.

“I don’t know how to… shouldn’t I be with her right now? What if she’s waking up and alone and I’m not with her? And I’m sitting here and washing my clothes, I should go and see her right now.” He got up, but she grabbed his arm and pulled him back down on the bench to keep him from running outside in nothing but his underwear.

“She’ll probably be in surgery right now, you’re right.” He sighed and took another sip from the hot chocolate. “I just hope she’ll be alright.”

By the time her laundry was dry he had told her everything about his friend and when she began to get dressed in the middle of the Laundromat he turned away to give her privacy. He even blushed. Cute. She used his money to get him a chocolate bar from the wending machine and kept the change. She loved it when her clothes were still warm from the dryer. When she took her basket he touched her shoulder and she almost flinched.

“Hey, thanks for… listening. And the hot chocolate.” He gave her a forced smile. “My name is Jaune.”

She shrugged, turned around and left.

 

* * *

 

The next time she met him he was trying to iron a white dress shirt. She only stopped him because he was about to burn it and she didn’t want the sprinklers to turn on and soak the big white shirt she was wearing while her laundry was still not dry.

“Hey”, he said, his voice sounded raspy. “Didn’t expect you here.”

She carefully ironed his clothes, not looking up. She had done this for Roman a million times and it made her feel nostalgic. She wasn’t sure if she liked it.

“You never told me your name”, he said. When she didn’t answer he sat down. His hair was even messier than last time. “She didn’t make it, you know?”

She didn’t look up. She wasn’t sure if she cared.

“You know, actually you never really said anything. I’m sorry if I’m just getting on your nerves.”

She looked up and pointed towards the coffee machine.

“You know, actually the hot chocolate tastes horrible. I could go to the coffee shop across the street and get you a proper one.”

She nodded. It would probably mean he wouldn’t stop talking to her, but she didn’t mind him as much as the others. Maybe because he didn’t give a shit about her, he just wanted to feel like he was talking to someone when he was actually just talking to himself.

She was done with his shirt by the time he came back. The cup of hot chocolate was still warm, with cream on top and some sprinkles of cocoa powder. It reminded her of mud and snow. “Thanks for the shirt”, he said. “I don’t know if I… you know, I never ironed anything on my own. I probably would have set it on fire.”

It wasn’t that easy to set clothes on fire, he probably would have got nasty burn marks on the white cotton and then noticed he had screwed up, but she didn’t bother to tell him that. She took a sip of her hot chocolate. It definitely tasted better than the one from the coffee machine.

“Tomorrow is the funeral and I don’t know how I’m going to make it. It feels so unreal.”

She didn’t look up. She knew what he meant. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to remember.

It had always been easy for her to listen. She had spent all her life depending on hearing footsteps on wooden stairs or tiny hints of someone starting to lose their temper so she could be prepared. She had spent her life learning that answering or talking back was never worth it, that nothing good came from sharing her thoughts with the world. The only people who had ever really seen her had been the ones who had hurt her, even Roman in a way. As long as she remained silent and kept smiling people tended to see what they wanted to see in her.

She got up when her laundry was done and took the last sip form her cup. He turned around when she began to get dressed, the man at the other end of the Laundromat didn’t. She didn’t care.

“I’m sorry for making you listen to all of this”, he said. “I’m just… I don’t know.” He looked around as if he was searching for something to hold onto. “I mean I don’t even know your name and now I’m pouring my heart out to you.”

She leaned down to take his phone out of the pocket for his jeans and almost chuckled when he froze. She typed something and then threw it into his lap before she took her basket and left.

 

* * *

 

The next time she met him he had two cups of hot chocolate and no laundry. “Neo”, he said. “Is that your name?”

She nodded and took the cup he gave her.

“I wanted to thank you for listening”, he said and sat down next to her. “And I probably felt guilty for not asking any questions about you after making you listen to my whole life story.”

She raised her eyebrows. The only reason he cared was because he saw something in her she was not. She knew how this went. His mind filled in the blanks with what he wished she was and the truth would just disappoint him. People always expected those around them to be something they were not. Roman had known that and she had loved that about him.

“I mean… what do you do? Are you at university?”

She sighed and took his phone out of his pocket once again. She opened the note she had left him last time, he hadn’t deleted it. Three letters. _Neo_. She thought about just telling him to fuck off for a moment, then she typed.

 _Nothing_.

“What do you mean with nothing?”

 _Lost my job_.

“Are you searching for something new right now?”

 _Not sure_.

He didn’t seem to know what to think of her answers. He looked at her for a moment and then fumbled around with the sleeves of his sweater. _I don’t have a washing machine_ , she typed. She didn’t know what else to say. Maybe the truth was that she just wasn’t interesting. She deleted it. _I spend my days watching sitcoms and staring at people from my window, finding reasons why I don’t like them_. No, not better. _I’m boring._

“I don’t think you’re boring.”

She looked up. She hadn’t even realised he had watched her type.

“Everyone has an interesting story to tell. Boring people don’t exist, only people who aren’t interested in finding out more about those around them.”

_What is your interesting story?_

He shrugged. “I grew up with seven sisters and when I was young they kept braiding my hair. I cut it short so they would stop when I was eleven and then cried because I missed my hair, then my oldest sister let me braid hers to cheer me up.”

 _Cute_ , she typed. _My friend died_.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She shrugged. Those phrases didn’t mean much, even though he meant it. _There’s nothing else to say about me._

“There always is more to say about someone. Where are you from? What do you like?”

_Ice cream and kittens._

“See, we already got something in common. I also like those two things.” He was smiling. It was probably meant to be reassuring. He was incredibly naïve and she wasn’t sure if he was even aware of that. In a way it was adorable.

 

* * *

 

The next time she met him she was dressed and they sat on a bench not far from the ice cream shop he said he liked. For some reason he still didn’t know her well enough to think she wasn’t that interesting, but she got free ice cream, so she wouldn’t complain.

It was a warm day. Jaune fed crumps of his ice cream cone to some sparrows which fought over it like they were starving. Neo leaned her head against his shoulder because she felt like it. For a moment he didn’t move, then he kept breaking his cone into tiny pieces. For some reason he seemed to think that only because she didn’t talk she wanted him to remain silent as well, but she liked to listen to his voice, so she poked him in the rips until he looked at her.

“Something wrong?”, he asked.

She rolled her eyes and then pointed at something in front of them.

“What do you… oh, that book shop?”

She hadn’t really pointed at anything in particular, but she nodded.

“I don’t really read that much. I like comics, but I also loved fantasy stories when I was a child. Maybe I should pick it up again. Do you read?”

She nodded.

“As a child I read this one book over and over again, about a boy who finds a magic stone and suddenly he has to fight the evil sorcerer. I loved it. I found a stone and painted it red with my sister’s nail polish so I could pretend I was that boy from the story. The older kids beat me up anyway, but my sisters came after them the next day and that scared them off.”

She knew the feeling of being beaten by someone stronger from long ago, and while he had had his sisters to protect him, she had learned how to not be beat up ever again. She still didn’t manage to feel bitter about it, to be jealous of him having someone who cared where she had been on her own.

“But anyway, I still have that stone somewhere, I think my mum kept it. She always thought everything I did was adorable. Mums, you know?”

She didn’t know, but she nodded. She took a spoon of his ice cream and wasn’t sure if she preferred chocolate or strawberry. Maybe both of it together.

“Do you have family?”, he asked. “Sorry if it’s too personal.”

She shook her head and shrugged. It wasn’t like she had ever had one. It wasn’t like she knew what it was like. The only person she had ever thought of as some kind of family was dead.

“Is there a reason you don’t… talk?”

She nodded and typed something on his phone before he even noticed she had taken it. _I got used to it._

“But you could if you wanted to?”

_I do if what I have to say is so important it has to be heard and can’t be heard in another way._

“I think everything you’d have to say is important.”

Sometimes he really was adorable. _I can type it._

He looked at her and smiled. “Yes, you can.”

 

* * *

 

She stopped counting the times she met him. He bought her Sushi and showed her pictures of his family, told her all about his sisters. He made her pancakes in his small apartment and apologised for the mess she didn’t mind. She stole one of his sweaters before she left, just because she liked the smell.

She didn’t really get why he kept coming back without expecting anything from her, but he did. She thought about it while she was lying on his couch, watching a documentary on dolphins on TV while he was in the kitchen. She liked to be at his place while he went on with his everyday business, to watch him do the dishes and study for his exams. Sometimes he asked her if she was bored, but when she was she threw something at him to get his attention.

“Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

Sometimes she wondered if he cared more for other people than for himself. It was noble, but stupid. He needed someone to stop him from dying because of his way too big heart or tripping while getting a cup of milk in the middle of the night. She nodded and sat up so he could sit down next to her.

“I shouldn’t have told my mum I’m doing great because my grades are horrible.” He sighed and leaned back. “Wait is that my sweater?”

She nodded. He turned his head so she wouldn’t see him smile, he just didn’t consider her seeing his reflection in the dark window.

“Are you really sure you’re not hungry?”

She rolled her eyes and pointed at him.

“No, I’m not hungry. Not much at least. Okay, I’m a bit hungry.”

She nodded and leaned back when he got up, looking at her as if she had forced him.

He came back with a cup of ice cream and two spoons. “The best thing about moving out is that no one tells you you can’t have ice cream for dinner.”

She took the cup away from him and gave him a lecturing glare before she ate the first spoon.

“Come on!”

She smirked and pointed to the kitchen.

He came back with a lazily made sandwich. She zapped through the programme while he ate until he took the second spoon out of her hand and she laughed when he tried to get a hold of the ice cream cup. He chased her to the end of the couch until she put a spoon full of ice cream into his mouth. She was lying on the couch with him leaning above her. He took the cup out her hands and put it on the window shelf. When he looked at her again she bit her lip to keep herself from smiling at the look of determination in his eyes. He leaned down and then stopped, doubt flickering over his face, a question lingering in his gaze. He was still concerned for her, as if he was able to force himself on her in any way. Protecting herself was not her problem, letting him come that close was. She tickled the soft hair in the back of his neck when he finally kissed her, she liked how it felt. His lips were softer than she had expected. He was tender, almost careful. She could feel his nervousness and she didn’t know what it was that she was feeling, but it was warm and she liked it. When he pulled away and opened his mouth to say something she put her finger on his lips. Sometimes she liked him better when he didn’t say anything.

 

* * *

 

She could still feel cold hands wrapping around her throat when she woke up. Her heart was racing and she gasped for air. She looked around to remind herself where she was. Jaune’s bedroom. His arm was still wrapped around her waist. She tried to get up, but he only pulled her closer in his sleep. She pushed him away. The floor was cold beneath her naked feet.

She must have woken him up by pushing him away too eagerly because it only took him a couple of minutes to find her in the living room. She was sitting on the sofa, lights turned on, knees pulled to her chest. He blinked and she stared at his ridiculous bunny boxers and wondered how something like her had ended up being in that guy’s living room where everything seemed to be so horribly alright.

“Are you alright?”, he asked and she gave him an angry glare. He just stepped closer and sat down next to her. “You talk in your sleep.”

She rested her chin on her knees. She hadn’t known that. She pressed her fist against his chest to stop him from coming closer and hated herself for not being able to look at him.

“I can heat up some milk for you”, he said. “My mum always did that when… I couldn’t sleep.”

She shook her head. She didn’t feel like drinking milk, she felt like making him go to bed again so she could be alone, but she didn’t know what she would do if she was alone, so she kept him at distance, her hand clawing to the fabric of his shirt.

They stayed like this for a while until she pulled at his shirt and then let him go. It was nothing but a hint and she wasn’t even sure if she really wanted him to get it, but he did. He wrapped his arms around her and then picked her up. She was so out of control she felt like throwing up.

They lied back down on the bed and she turned the light on his bedside table on before he pulled the blanket over them. It didn’t make the feeling of utter helplessness go away, but his body was warm next to hers, his movements when he wrapped his arms around her were so careful she couldn’t help but to slowly calm down.

 

* * *

 

He had the nightmares ever since the accident. He had told her one day, it had rained, his lips had tasted like chocolate and he had told her about it because something on TV had reminded him of the friend he had lost.

It always made her feel helpless when it happened. He moved next to her and she turned the lights on, but he didn’t wake up. He had his back turned towards her and it almost seemed like he was in pain.

She grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him, gently and then hard, but he kept panting and mumbling things she couldn’t understand and wasn’t meant to. She bit her lip and pinched him. The thought of him being caught in his nightmare, reliving the accident again and again, freaked her out more than she liked to admit. It reminded her of her own nightmares. Way too much. She felt like breaking something.

“Jaune!”

The sound of her voice still seemed to linger in the small room, to choke her. Jaune slowly turned around and looked at her. She stroked some strands of hair out of his face. His forehead was covered in sweat.

“Just a nightmare”, he mumbled. She poked him for playing it down and then kissed his cheek. He pulled her closer, almost crushing her in his embrace. She rested her head on his chest and ran her fingertips over his arm to calm him down.

She could feel that he wanted to say something. Talk about his nightmare. Ask her if she had really said something, though he already knew what her voice sounded like from the few times she had talked in her sleep. She still wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Using her voice always made her feel incredibly vulnerable.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… did I wake you up?”

She sighed. Sometimes she wished he would understand that not everything he wanted her to know had to be said. He ran his hands through her hair.

“Can we leave the lights on?”

She kissed his collarbone and then pulled the blanket over her head. She realised how fond she had grown of the sound of his heartbeat.

“Neo?”

She tapped his arm to tell him she was still awake.

“Thank you.”


End file.
